Last Stand
by sarista wow
Summary: Puar watches Yamcha prepare for the greatest and most dangerous battle of his life as the martial artist tries to tie up some loose ends before facing off against the cyborg menace running rampant across the Earth. A tale of bravery, sacrifice and loss.


Puar's claws were buried in Yamcha's orange gi as the scarred man ambled about their apartment. It was getting late but neither one acknowledged the moon rise, or the odd silence permeating from the city below. Instead, Yamcha was carelessly tossing clothes, knick-knacks and whatever else caught his fancy into storage capsules.

"It'll be nostalgic to stay at Master Roshi's again, right?" He asked, his voice was high and chipper and for all the world it seemed like he was running on pure sugar even as everything seem ready to collapse at the hand of the Cyborgs.

Puar didn't loosen his grip but nodded all the same.

"Just try not to fight with Oolong," Yamcha added with a chuckle.

"I'll try," Puar squeaked. Looking at them no one would be able to tell Puar was the elder of the two but it was the truth.

Puar had known Yamcha since he was a small child meeting just after the shape shifter had received his qualifications from Shapeshifting School. The cat had been trekking across Diablo Desert on a camping holiday, confident that his abilities and small size would be enough to guard against any threats he might encounter. Then, of course, he'd stumbled on the boy in a cave eating a lizard.

Dark shaggy hair hung over his face, the boys body was thin from hunger and his lips cracked and dry. But as he stared up at the intruder, a carving knife in hand as he leaned defensively over his meal their eyes met and Puar could see a wild, desperate sort of determination. The boy had refused to break eye contact and everything in his posture said this was a child who would cling to what little he had with pride and let no one else take it from him.

"Ready to go?" Yamcha asked, gently rubbing Puar's head.

"Hm!" The shape-shifter nodded. His murmur was followed by the familiar feeling of movement through the air as Yamcha took flight. Of the two of them Puar had been the first to fly but Yamcha was always going to be the faster one, just like it had always been. After finding the boy Puar couldn't leave him alone and they'd become friends and companions.

First they'd been hunters.

Then thieves.

They'd even tried their hands at being heroes… with mixed results.

The duo had stuck together through thick and thin with the only thing seemingly able to put a barrier between them being death.

Which was why Puar was clinging to his oldest friend and wouldn't let go no matter what. The cat buried his face deeper as Yamcha's blazing white aura encompassed their bodies and they shot across the sky. Having known him so long Puar considered himself the foremost expert on his best friend and knew Yamcha felt the same. Which is why he knew the scarred fighter was going to die soon.

* * *

Sand scattered and crunched underfoot as they landed on the tiny island where so many years of their youth had been spent. Master Roshi was waiting for them, still with his usual red rimmed sunglasses and well trimmed white beard. However, rather than one of his colourful open shirts he was wearing the black and white lined martial arts uniform he always did when things were serious.

"Welcome, welcome," he said, far too casually. Why was everyone pretending everything was OK when cities were burning and martial artist dropping like flies!?

"Hello again, Master," Yamcha offered, bowing politely to his first 'true' martial arts master.

"Hah, you boys... Well come on then," he waved, "time to get you set up for your stay. Just don't don't expect dinner, Launch hasn't been back in a while."

Perhaps choosing to avoid the question of exactly where Launch was Yamcha simply shrugged and said, "No problem, besides I can cook." as they wandered into the house. "Say where's Krillen?"

"Oh he's off visiting Gohan," Roshi seemed to stall for a moment before continuing, "He's trying to get them to move I think."

"Ah, that didn't go down so well last time we tried," Yamcha recalled, and Roshi nodded. "Well I guess it's just you, me, Puar, Turtle and Oolong for the night, who wants a drink!?" And with that the dark haired former bandit flicked open a capsule and revealed a limited edition beer cooler from one his his 'Titans' games, Yamcha swung open the door and tossed the first bottle he saw to Roshi.

That night five friends sat together. They talked, they reminisced, ordered a pizza no one was going to deliver before Yamcha opted to cook and, of course, had a toast. Puar didn't let go the entire time, not even when his tiny body finally gave out and he fell asleep.

* * *

Yamcha didn't need to expend his senses to figure out Puar was fast asleep. His little friend had been a ball of frustration and stress ever since, well, ever since the whole mess started. Still, he hadn't wanted to drag Puar off of him and thankfully circumstances hadn't forced him to. Though he knew better than to think such good fortune would continue.

Sliding calloused fingers under Puar's claws he gently unpinned them. One, two, three, four, five, and six, gently lifting his lifetime friend off his shirt and placing him on a nearby pillow. The cat shook a little but remained unconscious. Careful not to ruffle or shake the lounge Yamcha slipped from the chair and out the open door Roshi had left for him. The old man stood at the islands edge, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed out at the lapping waves in the early morning light.

"Looks like it'll be a nice day," Roshi said gently.

"Mm, a real bright one," Yamcha murmured. The sea breeze was never something he'd expected to grow used to, but after all his time at this place… The martial artist sighed and glanced at his old master and said, "Thanks for looking after us, and please be gentle with Puar; oh and watch out for his claws, um shape-shifter and all that."

"You don't have to try and be happy, you don't even have to go, I don't sense anything," Roshi replied. The old man's voice sounded ragged and drained, like he'd drunk a cup of sand after not sleeping for days.

"It's fine, at least, as fine as it can be. I just hope Krillen and Gohan lookout for each other, and remember to check up on Bulma and Trunks."

"You'd stand a better chance with them than without, these things killed Vegeta, Piccolo and even Tenshinhan…" Roshi's head drooped and he stared absently at the ground. "I just don't know what any of you think you can do."

Yamcha could only shrug, "Probably not much, but I'm an optimist," he said, giving the older man a happy little grin. "Besides if we all go together I don't see it going any differently, at least this way they might stay hidden for awhile longer, maybe they won't even be found," he emphasised.

"There's honour in that," Roshi said.

"Hehe, thanks, I guess I'm just a noble sort of guy," Yamcha said and ran a hand through his dark hair. "You know, I don't know if we all thanked you-"

"Oh don't start that again, I stopped being you kids master a long time ago."

Clasping his hands Yamcha bowed. "But you got us started, and you're the one we come back to, so thank you, Master, for everything. I promise I'll put everything I've learnt to good use!" He swore, pumping his fist in the air.

That was when it struck, hundreds of miles away and yet it could have been right next to him for how close it felt. The tiny pulsating stars that sent vibrations across the world without even knowing it, always filling his mind with light, and then so many of them were gone. Hundreds of lives ended in the blink of an eye.

Not wasting a moment Yamcha flared his aura up around him and leapt into the air, throwing back a cocky wave that Roshi returned as he called, "Go get-em boy!"

The moment Yamcha was out of sight Roshi fell to his knees. ' _My boys..._ _'_ he thought, shuddering, _'They're not coming back this time_.'

* * *

' _Goku, if you were here now why do I feel like none of this would be happening?_ ' Yamcha thought as he sailed across the sky. _'Krillen, please stay asleep a little longer, or just be a little slower, I don't want you to see this_ ,' he thought despondently. The two men had been the little brothers he never had. That was true even after Goku had surpassed them by leaps and bounds and even Krillen stood taller than him. But even then Yamcha wanted to look out for them.

His brow creased as Bulma and images of her son came to mind. She'd refused to leave West City even though it was already a wreck, going back to the torn up Capsule Corp building because no one was chasing her out of her own home. ' _I suppose it's safe as anywhere else but still, please be careful, both of you just be OK. I'm sorry I was never able to give you whatever it was you found with Vegeta; and Trunks, I'm sure you'll be a great kid!_ '

' _Gohan, you only came out of diaper a few years ago and can already school me in a fight,_ ' he thought ruefully. ' _I'm sure you're proud Goku._ ' The boy didn't have a bad natured bone in his body but Yamcha knew he'd fight if he had to, hopefully just not too soon.

Yamcha knew he was saying goodbye. Sure he didn't plan on dying but it was better to enter battle with a calm mind and it felt right to say something. In truth, death in combat had always been one of his preferred ways to go, only given less preference for the pain it would cause those he left behind.

There was another sudden absence in his mind, the alien feeling of lost ki's without someone' else's blazing to match it was disturbingly empty even worse somehow than sensing death normally.

' _Tenshinhan, Chaozu..._ ' He still remembered Chaozu's last message, ' _Don't sneak around too much, they will destroy everything._ ' It had come through right before the psychic's death scream drove hundreds of people to their knees. In that one moment Tenshinhan's ki had risen higher than Yamcha thought possible for anyone. But whatever it was he tried it hadn't worked. ' _Even then you fought, no running, no backing down, that suits you doesn't?_ '

' _Vegeta, Piccolo_.' He'd never gotten along great with either man, despite living in close quarters with the prince for two years and having been stuck on a microbe of a planet for what felt like ages with Piccolo. _'_ _You both fought and fell bravely. Well, I doubt it's how you wanted to go, but I know you fought to the bitter end, that's honourable_.'

Another abyss opened up in his mind and Yamcha sent a pulse of ki through his body and out his skin, in an explosive motion. 'Faster, faster!'

Master Roshi was like the father he'd never had. A father to all of them in a way and the one who showed him by word and example what it meant to be a martial artist. ' _I'm not as strong, or as fast, or even as skilled as the others… But I am stronger than almost everyone else on this planet. So if I can save one, just one person, even if just by distracting them, that'd be enough_.'

His right arm bulged, veins throbbing as he began to pool a ball of white hot glowing ki. Each time the orb flashed into existence he'd crush it down as small as possible again and again, layer upon layer of intense burning energy.

The sight of smoke and a ruined city came into view. Yamcha spiralled around when he saw a flash of yellow vaporise a building with contemptuous ease. Striking from the back was not a fair way to fight, but he had been a bandit and in Yamcha's eyes, respect was reserved for people, not monsters.

Another scream and a crash echoed from the city and Yamcha bounced between building and alleyways before locating the source of the screams. Hordes of innocents were fleeing in a chaotic panic, in cars, or planes and on foot. The planes were being shot out of the sky like one would swap a gnat and cars were exploded by weak ki beams to spread the chaos amongst the majority of citizens.

A set of twins were the only ones calm in the chaos, the veritable eye of the storm, one blonde, the other with black hair, one girl one boy. Beams of purple and yellow light were let loose from their hands and into the struggling citizens as they strolled across the rubble and corpses, confident and secure in their supremacy.

' _And with their backs turned,_ ' Yamcha thought. The Spirit Ball was pulsating above his half clenched hand and he used his free right arm to keep it steady. This was his attack at it's most powerful, sacrificing size for pressurized strength that made even holding the orb a strain on his muscles both physical and spiritual.

So without a second thought he leapt out from behind the skyscraper and lobbed it at the demonic duo. The orb shot through the air and if it worked as it was meant to would snap the cyborg boys neck on impact. At the last moment the two teens became aware of his attack but it was too late. Yamcha sent another wave of ki into his attack and it buried itself in the nape of Cyrbog 17's neck, the speed and 'weight' of the orb knocking him towards the ground.

' _Now_!' clenching his hand Yamcha released the Spirit Ball from his hold and let it's power spread. In a second it's light spread and encompassed both mechanical killers and then he compressed it again. ' _If they don't die at the same time, we can't guarantee they won't just blow up the whole planet_!' The half orb convulsed on itself and filled the shattered city with light as it exploded, scattering dust and stones in every direction.

Not waiting for anything Yamcha blurred out of sight, cupped his hands and chanted, "Ka...me... Hame..." He dived again and saw the blonde floating above the crater with her arms folded. Not wasting a second he blurred into existence before her and roared, "Haaa!"

Her eyes widened in momentary surprise as the blue wave consumed her, but he could feel her weathering the blast. Power enough to destroy the planet several times over, power no one should possess or survive, and he could feel it being shrugged off. Something burst from his wave and her fist collided with his face. With a violent crack of jaw bones Yamcha was sent soaring into a ruined skyscraper.

Exploding through the glass he fell into a clumsy roll and struck the ground, glass cracking underfoot. Ignoring the flash of pain running through his face the martial artist flared his aura, crumbling the building around him and leapt up to avoid two lazy ki blasts. Exploding out the roof of the building and vaporizing it with his aura the skyscraper collapsed. Now all three of them floated in the air, the Cyborgs seemingly just by will alone, Yamcha still encompassed in his fire like white aura.

The blonde laughed and motioned to her brother, "Haha, he wrecked your outfit!"

The dark haired boys blue pants and black shirt were torn and layered with dust, not unlike Yamcha himself was. The youth shrugged and gave Yamcha a nasty smirk and said, "Whatever, I have spares."

Yamcha waited patiently for them to finish their little chat. Every second they burned on him or idle chatter was another spent ignoring the emptying streets. _'I just hope they don't notice that,_ ' with that worry in mind he sent a cheeky wink at the blonde who grunted in disgust. ' _Swing and a miss._ '

"Its so nice one of you came out of the woodwork, we were getting bored trying to smoke you out. Yamcha, isn't it?" The dark haired one said, talking as if they were old pals.

"Well what can I say, you two finally get to play in the big leagues," Yamcha replied. He could feel the sweat running down his body and the tension across his muscles and Ki, those attacks had been nearly everything he had!

"Hah, that's funny. Though you're a bit rude aren't you? I mean we know you're name, don't you want to know ours?" The Blonde asked.

"If you like," Yamcha responded. He'd slowly slid into a defensive stance, half to the side, one arm up read to guard and the other to strike.

"Eighteen," the blonde said, motioning to herself.

"And Seventeen," the boy finished, before adding, "Oh and just in case you couldn't tell, I'm the one who's going to kill you, no hard feelings."

"Just don't cry oil everywhere all right?" Yamcha said, before flinging himself through the air as the words left his mouth and leaving behind an after image. Seventeen's fist went straight through it and the martial artist shot downwards and slammed his foot into the Cyborgs neck. The two forces met with an almost audible bang only for Seventeen to spin around and grab Yamcha's leg, fracturing the bone his his vice like grip.

"Hya!" Yamcha roared and threw out a ball of ki into the Cyborgs face that exploded on impact. Seventeen's grip didn't slacken but he bit out a curse and shouted, "My eyes!" Before dragging Yamcha through the air in a spiral and hurling him through another series or collapsed building.

As the metal and stone gave way under his passage Yamcha desperately tried to reorient himself and rolled into a ball as he blasted through another wall. Flaring his ki outwards Yamcha's chaotic flight came to a halt mid air and above some highway. At the feeling of air parting above him the martial artist threw up his arms, while hurling himself down and absorbed the powerful blow as best he could, shattering the cement when he landed but not being left in a crater.

Seventeen flashed into existence at his side and telegraphed a spin kick. Ducking under the attack Yamcha swept the Cyborgs legs out from under him and vaporized some of the path to do it. Ramming his fist into the boys liver, Yamcha dragged another ball of Ki from his body, every vein throbbing and muscles groaning as he did so. A wave of golden energy exploded outwards and Yamcha leapt backwards as the Cyborg sailed through it and after him.

' _He's toying with me,_ ' Yamcha thought as he desperately tried to block, redirect and return Seventeen's speedy strikes, each one just a little bit stronger and faster than his own. Yamcha could feel bruises and cracked bones building on one another as they cycled through the air and over the city. But Seventeen was clearly taking no damage from his attacks. ' _I'm better than he is, but this guy can't even feel my attacks_!'

Finally, when he failed to block an incoming blow Yamcha was sent flying through the air, too stunned to even stop himself as his body tried to cope with the blow. Seventeen backed off and the martial artist was able to get his bearing, coming to a lurching halt in the air with another flash of his aura. Floating to his right was Eighteen, and his left Seventeen.

"Heh, not that this hasn't been fun, but don't you think you should try giving up and going home now?" Seventeen asked. Yamcha knew he heard Eighteen mutter something about 'liking runners.'

Chuckling Yamcha fell into a wide attack stance and held his hands out like bared claws. "Funny…" he panted. "I was just about to suggest the same… thing, for you two. Why not run home, give up this mess and get real lives. I could recommend some great apartments."

"Hah! Thanks old man but I'm not exactly a nine to fiver, and paying rent, so over it," Seventeen replied.

"Well in that case I'm going to need to take you down to see the cops. Can't have you causing so much civil unrest and all that," Yamcha said, spitting out a gob of blood as he smirked up at his two would be killers.

"Aw no chase? What. A. Shame," Seventeen said slowly, closing his fists and getting into a boxer's stance.

"I know. But before we wrap this up, how about I show you kids a classic?" Baring his teeth Yamcha reached down into the deepest wells of his body and dragged everything up to the forefront. Muscles swelled and bulged with an audible swell of power and his aura flashed wildly.

He charged forward and the two Cyrbog's looked stunned for a moment as a deafening howl filled the air, "Wolf Fang Fist!" Seventeen's eyes widened for a moment and Yamcha's right hook was ready when he felt the boys leg struck his neck, shaking Yamcha's entire frame and sending a violent crack through his neck.

His aura vanished and Yamcha could feel the ki dying in his body. ' _Just one person, just one more attack_!' He thought. Desperately trying to drag up this lingering reserves of ki. He gathered the burning heat in his stomach he prepared his final explosive wave. Right then Seventeen fired a stream of Ki through his torso and in an instant wiped away the last dregs of Yamcha's strength, his heart, and everything else.

Falling to the ground Yamcha's mind drifted, _'Puar, I'm so sorry._ '

Before his body even hit the ground his soul had departed and across the sea Puar awoke with a screech. He looked up at Master Roshi who was slumped, defeated, on the floor and the cat began to weep.

* * *

Notes:

I wrote this snippet on impulse and in many ways think it would work better as a comic, but I do hope anyone who reads it liked it and if you have anything you want to say please do. I'm pretty much always eager for constructive critique or opinions and to be honest I am worried about some of the reflective scenes in the middle such as Vegeta & Piccolo's bit as well as the action scenes. I'm not sure this piece communicated it but I like Yamcha, he's not my favourite character, any more, but he's definitely in my top ten and I sometimes feel a bit frustrated by the treatment he receives in the series and from the fandom.

The initial version of this referenced a child being born moments after he died to hint at a possible reincarnation plot point, but I decided it was too awkwardly worded. I also had an epilogue scene with Puar finding Yamcha's reincarnation but cut it because it felt tacked on as it was, I depending on how things go I may either write a second chapter for this or post a sequel.

I never really understood the exact way the 'future' cast died, the order is sometimes inconsistent and I would think after Tenshinhan, Piccolo or Vegeta died (who came first is sometimes inconsistent) most of them would try to group up and i'm not sure how 17 & 18 would have tracked half the cast down given they can't seem to detect energy and most live in wastelands. Would they just fly around the globe until they saw one? In this context I tried to make Yamcha's decision seem 'strategic' they all know 17 & 18 are searching for them and also that the two are overwhelmingly powerful, so basically he's hoping his death will make them quiet down for a bit rather than continue to waste city's in order to lure them out.

I also feel I must apologize to anyone who came here due to their readership of 'Harry Potter and the Girl With a Hundred Faces' as I'm sure this wouldn't be what you're looking for.


End file.
